A Bullet for Them, A Bullet for You
by Reachingthestaars
Summary: When the criminal Peter Burke had been chasing for years breaks into his house in the middle of the night, the agent has to figure out what to do. Nothing could ever be simple when it comes to Neal. Preseries.
1. Chapter 1

Hey! This is my first White Collar story, so tell me if anyone is out of character! All criticism is welcome(:

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Peter's eyes flew open, though he saw nothing in the room's darkness. Listening intently, Peter heard what must of woken him up in the first place. Heavy footsteps came from downstairs, seemingly from the kitchen if he had to guess. Peter slid out of the bed and grabbed his gun from the nightstand. It couldn't be Elizabeth grabbing a glass of water; she was visiting her sister in Connecticut for a few days.

Peter raised his gun in front of him, waiting a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the darkness before moving out of the bedroom. He crept quietly, avoiding all of the steps he knew creaked. Reaching the landing, Peter held his breath as he turned towards the kitchen. He saw a shadowy figure standing by his window, peeking through the curtain to his backyard.

"Freeze!" Peter commanded, sounding much calmer than he felt. The intruder jumped at his sudden shout and spun around quickly. "Show me your hands!"

"C'mon Peter, I thought we were closer than that."

Peter furrowed his brows and gripped tighter to the gun, which he had trained on the stranger. But he swore he knew that voice. He wracked his brain for who it belonged to. Then it came to him. "Caffrey?"

"I'm offended that it took you that long to recognize me. Now, we can have a much nicer conversation if you pointed that gun somewhere else."

Peter came forward slowly and flipped on the kitchen light, his gun unwavering. "I thought you were better than this, Caffrey. Sneaking into a feds house? And not doing a very good job of it, either. Are you always this noisy on heists?"

Neal raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sudden flood of light. "It's been fun catching up, but I really don't have time for this. _We_ really don't have time for this. Let's go."

Okay, now Peter was seriously confused. Sure, him and Neal had been in contact multiple times, as the con was so fond of teasing him during their games of cat and mouse. But this was something else entirely. He had done a horrible job sneaking in, and Peter knew from experience that Neal could do much better than that. He had agonized over enough hours of security tapes to know that. Finally taking in Neal's appearance, Peter noted his bruised face, disheveled hair, and ripped suit.

"Go where?" he questioned. "And what happened to you?"

"No time. C'mon," Neal said, turning toward the back door and opening it slightly, peering out carefully.

"Unless we're going to my office, I don't think so. You may send my wife flowers on her birthday, but you are still under arrest."

Neal sighed in frustration. "Men are coming to kill you. I'd rather not be here when they arrive. Let's go." With that, Neal deemed the backyard safe and slipped outside. Now even more confused than before, Peter followed, wishing he had grabbed his cuffs too. But Neal would have just picked them anyway.

Outside, the full moon illuminated the yard in a pale, feeble light. Neal stalked across the grass and, looking back, motioned for Peter to follow him. He certainly couldn't turn around and go back to bed, especially if Neal wasn't actually lying about the men who were coming. Gun still raised, Peter followed Neal across the yard and to the next block over. Neal slid into the driver's seat of a black car, expensive and definitely stolen.

Peter stood in the middle of the street, gripping his gun and undecided. Getting into a car with a criminal wanted by the FBI was on the top of the list of idiotic things to do. But, he had been chasing Neal long enough to know that he was nonviolent. Also, according to him, there were people on their way to his house to kill him. Whether Peter believed him or not, he still had to arrest him. He couldn't just let Neal drive away. Peter was armed and therefore had the upper hand, so, with his base instincts screaming at him, he crossed the street and climbed into the passenger seat.

As soon as Peter shut the door, Neal sped away at a speed that was way higher than any residential neighborhood would allow. "Neal, slow down!" Peter berated, gripping the armrest and suddenly regretting his decision.

Neal ignored him and continued his ridiculous speed for another full minute or two before slowing down to a less conspicuous pace. Once they were away from Peter's house and not doing 90 mph, Neal breathed a sigh of relief and took a hand off of the wheel to cradle his ribs.

Peter took a moment to really scrutinize the con. The cool composure he had come to associate Neal Caffrey with seemed to be cracking, showed by his wide, slightly panicked eyes and deflated posture. His usually impeccable appearance was also not up to par. He had bags under his eyes, which only accentuated the bruise that snaked over his left cheek and around his eye. The way he was holding his body suggested cracked, or even broken ribs. Peter narrowed his eyes. "Caffrey, what the hell is going on? Give me some real answers," he demanded.

Neal glanced over at him, crafting his face into a classic Caffrey smile that Peter didn't quite believe. "Well, I would have expected a thank you for saving your life. But fine, I'm not petty."

Peter glared at him. "Stop deflecting and pull this car over right now," he growled through clenched teeth.

Neal took an inventory of their surroundings and reluctantly pulled the car over. "Yes, Agent?" he asked sarcastically.

"First of all, who wants me dead and why do you know about it?"

"Technically, those are two questions, so you should have said firstly and secondly."

"Caffrey!"

"Fine," he huffed, before visibly dropping his bravado. "Jax wants you dead."

Peter's eyes widened. "Jax? As in David Jax?" Neal nodded. "Okay, but that only answered one of the questions."

"Peter, I thought we both had established by now that I'm not stupid."

Peter sighed. "Okay, so you were definitely involved in Jax's illegal activity. But you're still under arrest for bond forgery, so what's a little icing on the cake going to do?"

Neal snorted. "Sure, whatever you say. If you want me to drop you off at the Bureau so you can be put in a safe house with your wife or something, let's go. But I'm sure as hell not coming."

"Excuse me, but who's the federal agent in the car right now?"

"I have a few fake badges that beg to differ-"

"Caffrey!"

"Allegedly of course. But really, Peter, I just saved your life and you're going to turn me in? Is that how you want your win?"

Peter sat in silence for a moment. His brain told him to force Neal into custody as soon as possible, since he was never one for the gray spots in life. But it did feel wrong. What if Neal actually had just saved his life, and had gotten thrown in jail in return? Neal wasn't a violent criminal. It didn't excuse his actions by a long shot, but he wasn't a murderer. That had to mean something.

During his continued silence, Neal sighed again and then switched into his smug expression. It disturbed Peter how easily the transition was made. "Alright," Neal said. "I'll drive to your office and there you can do your little agent stuff." Neal pulled out back onto the road and turned towards the Bureau.

"Say I do let you go," Peter said eventually. "What happens to you?" Neal looked straight forward, and nothing in his expression gave a hint that he had heard Peter, though he must have.

"Damn it, Caffrey. You'll get killed for this, won't you?"

Neal still didn't answer, but his increase in speed was as good an answer as any.

"Christ," Peter muttered, and suddenly slammed a fist against the dashboard. Neal flinched, his veneer breaking further. "This is a mess," Peter seethed.

He had no idea what to do. He could go to the office and turn Neal in, screwing him over. He could go to the office and let Neal leave, screwing him over. Or there was the third option. Peter rubbed his forehead. It was too early for his conscience to have this battle.

"Pull over," Peter muttered, and Neal complied without protest. He was gripping the steering wheel with a fist so tight that his knuckles were completely white. Other than that, he managed to appear calm. Peter was smarter than that though. The kid was terrified. He sighed, making his decision.

"You stuck your neck out for me, I'll stick my neck out for you. Tell me everything."

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Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Hey guys! Thanks for all of the reviews, follows, and favorites. They really motivate me(:

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 _"You stuck your neck out for me, I'll stick me neck out for you. Tell me everything."_

Neal didn't even bother to hide his shock. "Special Agent Peter Burke going around the law to help a wanted criminal?"

"Y'know, it seems like you don't even want my help. I can easily go." Neal lost what little cockiness he had preserved at the threat. The look on Neal's face solidified Peter's conviction that he couldn't just abandon the con in the middle of the night, leaving him to face the attackers alone.

"Alright, Neal," Peter tried to placate the younger man. "I'm going to help you. We won't go to the Bureau, at least not yet. But you have to fill me in on what's going on."

Neal took a steadying breath. "Okay," he muttered, mostly to himself. "But we can't talk here. It's too risky. I have a place." Neal pulled back onto the road, his free arm wrapping even tighter around his ribs. Peter watched suspiciously, but merely sighed. Neal may be obviously rattled, but the agent doubted he would actually admit to any injuries.

Instead, Peter thought about his current situation, watching the suburban houses give way to trees as the duo drove further from the city. It had only been half an hour since he had discovered Neal in his kitchen, but it felt like hours. If anyone had told him earlier that day that he would later be driving around with Neal Caffrey, he would have laughed in their faces. But for now, he had to suspend his disbelief and get his head on straight.

After awhile, Neal slowed down and pulled into a driveway so hidden by foliage that Peter believed for a second that Neal was just pulling straight off the road. The driveway led to a small house that looked abandoned. The walls were cracked, and the forest was reclaiming the property. Neal turned off the car and climbed out. He walked up to the front door, and Peter hesitated a moment before following. Neal pulled out a beaten up paper clip and began working on the lock.

"Neal," Peter reprimanded sharply. "Whose house are we breaking into? You can't be serious."

Neal waved him off. "It's fine; it's a friend's house. He'll probably kill me for bringing a fed here, but I guess he'll just have to get in line." Peter crossed his arms in annoyance. It seemed over the car ride Neal had rebuilt some of his walls, and now Peter had to deal with sarcastic and elusive Caffrey. Great.

The lock clicked open a minute later, and the door gave way to an interior nicer than the house's appearance would first suggest. Peter followed Neal in. Neal quickly shut the door behind them and locked the multiple steel bolts.

"Okay. Talk. Now." Peter demanded. He hated being in the dark and having to follow blindly. Taking charge was natural for him.

"Wow, direct. You sure you don't want some coffee or something? Or how about the Caffrey grand tour?"

Peter sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Cut the crap. This is a serious situation."

"Yeah, I think I know that," Neal spat sharply. Peter's eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the abrupt change in mood. He had never seen Neal annoyed before, but anything was better than the forced flippancy. Neal walked across the room and sat down on a couch, gesturing Peter to sit next to him. Peter complied, glad to finally be getting some answers.

"You know that Van Gough forgery from about a month ago?" Peter nodded. "Well, I allegedly did it."

Peter furrowed his brows. "The forgery was flawless, but we ruled you out due to the guard's murder." Peter didn't mention that he and his team had been worried that there was another, violent Caffrey out there. The only thing worse than one Neal was two.

But apparently Peter didn't need to worry about inflating Neal's ego. He didn't even make a joke about Peter calling the forgery flawless. "Yeah, that's because I didn't pull off the heist myself. Allegedly. I worked with Jax's crew on it. I had another project that I was working on at the time, and it was easier than pulling it off alone. We were tight on time," Neal continued in a detached voice.

"What project?" Neal rolled his eyes.

"Knitting. What do you think?"

"Okay, dumb question," Peter admitted.

"Little bit. Anyway, after that first heist, I said I was out. Working with murderers isn't really my thing. But apparently that wasn't an option. Without me, their operation didn't have a forger. So when I refused, they forced me..."

Peter felt his anger rising in the ensuing silence. "What did they do?" Peter prompted in a deadly calm voice.

Neal wrung his hands. "I tried to leave and they knocked me out. When I came to I was chained up in a room."

"Neal, this was a month ago?" Neal nodded before resting his elbows on his knees and driving the heels of his hands into his eyes. Peter's awkwardness was off the charts in this situation, but his anger at Jax was currently overriding it. Peter placed a stiff hand on Neal's back, leaving it there when the younger man didn't react.

"I won't go into detail," Neal continued. "They forced me to make forgeries for them, made sure they left me well enough to be able to paint." Peter stood abruptly and began to pace. Neal didn't look at the agent, but instead trained his eyes on the floor.

"How do I come into all of this?" Peter asked, using all of his power to keep the anger out of his tone.

"I overheard them planning to kill you."

Peter slammed his fist against the wall, missing the way Neal flinched. "Damnit! I knew I was close to busting them!"

Neal let out a short, humorless laugh. "Apparently you were too close. Anyway, I couldn't let them kill anyone else. So, I insulted one of the guards. During the beating, I picked the chain's keys off of him. I guessed the security was pretty low on my cell, since Jax didn't see me as a threat and doesn't have a lot of men in the first place. I pretended to be unconscious and took the guard by surprise. Then I went to your house." Neal recounted all of this in a bored tone, distancing himself from the experience.

Peter was surprised at how angry he was. Jax, that bastard. He kicked the wall hard, and Neal said nothing. "Why didn't you try to escape before tonight?" Peter suddenly asked, spinning around to face the con.

"Oh, trust me, I did. The first week."

"And?" Neal didn't answer. Peter sighed in frustration. "What did Jax do?" Apparently, Neal had done all of the sharing he would allow. Peter wasn't having it. "Neal!"

Neal looked up at Peter sharply at the use of his first name, then slumped back on the couch. He looked exhausted. "He broke all of my fingers. Not on my painting hand, but if I tried to escape again, he said that was next."

Peter glanced at Neal's hand and noticed the bruising splattered across his fingers. The agent approached the con and tried to get a closer look, but Neal pulled his hand away. "It's been 3 weeks," Neal said irritably. "They're almost healed."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Fine. At least let me get some ice for that and those broken ribs you're obviously hiding from me."

"Cracked, actually," Neal added petulantly.

Peter ignored the comment and left in search of a refrigerator. Once in the kitchen and out of Neal's sight, Peter let himself truly feel angry.

He had been chasing Jax for weeks, and the guy was already a monster. Everywhere he robbed, he left a trail of bodies. And now, it was personal. Not only had he attempted to kill Peter, but he also kept Neal captive for a month. Peter would be mad about Jax putting anyone through that, but in the last hour Peter discovered that he had an unexpected protectiveness of Neal that he definitely did not want to analyze at the moment.

Neal was too good of a person to be in a business with such ruthless people. Sure, Jax and Neal were both thieves, but they were at opposite ends of the spectrum. The criminal world wasn't as civilized as Neal.

Peter yanked open the freezer and was glad to find a few trays of ice cubes. He popped them out into a paper towel and made his way back to the other room. "Okay," Peter began to say as he walked. "Jax needs to never see the outside of a cell again. Our first course of action-" Peter cut off. Neal was already fast asleep.

Then it hit him.

Neal had risked losing his ability to paint to save a federal agent. The very agent trying to put him in jail.

Neal was definitely in the wrong business.

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thanks for reading! I love to hear your opinions, and I'll update asap


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for the reviews! The motivate me so much(:

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"Neal, I look ridiculous."

"Hey, don't complain. We aren't the same suit size, so that t-shirt and pants are all I have for you. I invite you into my home, give you the shirt off my back, and this is how you repay me?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "Let's just go back to my house. It'll take two minutes."

"Peter, you don't think that Jax has people on your place? And anyway, all of your suits scream fed. Where we're going, the last thing you want to look like is a fed."

Peter didn't know if Neal's comment on his suits was an insult or not, so he changed the subject. "Nice apartment," he said with a smirk.

Neal sighed dramatically. "I thought so too. I'll miss it."

Peter laughed slightly. "You don't have to move. Feel free to paint some more forgeries here. It's fine." He walked up to a half finished painting, leaning over to examine it. "The Mona Lisa? Really, Caffrey?"

Neal flipped a hat onto his head. "Hey, an alleged forger has to have fun too. I'm sure you feds watch Law and Order or something on the weekends."

Peter scoffed. "Yeah, no. And that hat looks stupid."

Neal shrugged. "We're going into the lion's den. I have to hide my face somehow. They won't recognize you as quickly."

Peter frowned. "Where exactly are we going?"

"The Penrose."

"The Penrose! That's Jax's primary hangout! Are you kidding?"

"Do you have any better suggestions? Listen, I know how to draw Jax out. If your team goes and raids the bar, it'll be a gunfight. We can meet him in the open, on our terms. No bodies."

Peter sighed heavily. "Fine. What's the plan?"

"You're my muscle. You can pass as a bodyguard in that outfit. All you have to do is wait by the door and avoid attention. I'd be back in 5 minutes."

"What are you going to do?" Neal winked and began walking towards the door. "Neal!"

"You'll see!" Neal called over his shoulder, before leaving the apartment and forcing Peter to follow.

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The pair pulled up to the bar. It was around 5, so the it was beginning to fill up. Neal turned off the engine and thrummed his hands on the wheel. Peter was no idiot. He read the signs in Neal's restless hands and distracted eyes. "Neal, this is where they kept you?"

Neal nodded. "They own the two floors above the bar. That's where they do their real business. And that's where I'm going."

Peter ran a hand through his hair. "Are you sure you can do this? I mean, that's where you were kept prisoner. Plus, you just broke out less than 24 hours ago. This is an idiot move."

Neal shook his head slightly and then looked over at Peter, giving him a wide, excited smile. "Idiot move? Definitely. But also our only move. And hopefully it's so stupid that Jax won't even see it coming."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Are you insane? We're going in there on good faith that Jax thinks you're less of a moron than you actually are?"

Neal shrugged. "You have to be a little insane to jump off a cliff in Cuba with the Coast Guard at the bottom, especially if you have a Mayan artifact in your pocket." Peter gave him a disapproving look. "Geez, it's a hypothetical situation, lighten up."

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, fine. But let's make this quick, and don't pull any of your special little Caffrey tricks. Get what you need and get out."

Neal held up his hands in mock surrender. "No Caffrey tricks, I promise."

"For some reason I don't trust you," Peter replied, getting out of the car. Neal got out after him, and the two walked towards the bar.

Neal adjusted his hat so that it was lower over his eyes. "Don't act suspicious. Get a drink or something," he muttered.

Inside, the bar was dark. Peter didn't look for Jax in fear of making eye contact. Instead, he walked over to the counter while Neal walked towards the back. The music was pretty loud. Peter couldn't decide if that was to their advantage or not. He sat on a stool, trying to look less uncomfortable. Sure, he had gone undercover with the FBI. But he had always had a team outside if something went wrong. It was a lot more nerve wracking when you had to deal with it alone if things went to hell. Peter had no idea how Neal could sweet talk people under that kind of pressure, but there were a lot of things he didn't understand about him. When the bartender came over, Peter ordered a scotch. He tried to focus on the painting that hung above the bottles of liquor. It was better than stressing about Neal's part of the job.

Two minutes later, Peter felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, Peter breathed a sigh of relief when it was Neal and not Jax with a gun. "I got it," Neal shouted above the music. He glanced around the room, and Peter followed suit. The bar looked the same as when they walked in, but apparently Neal noticed something that Peter didn't.

"They know we're here," Neal told him, leaning towards his ear. "Act drunk and follow my lead." Neal took off his hat and placed it on Peter's head. He took Peter's arm and draped it around his shoulders, and the agent did his best to stumble drunkenly. When they neared a roped off staircase, Neal removed the chain and began to drag Peter up the stairs.

"Hey!" someone called from behind them. "You can't go up there!"

"Just lookin' for the bathroom before he pukes!" Neal shouted over his shoulder. The man replied, but they were already at the top of the staircase and couldn't hear him. Neal pushed the door open and pulled Peter in, shutting it quietly behind them.

"That'll buy us a minute or two," he said. Just then, the sound of pounding footsteps could be heard over the music, coming up the stairway. "Or less. Follow me."

Neal sprinted away, and Peter ran close behind. The agent could hear gunshots behind them, and he pushed his legs faster. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and Peter hadn't known he could run as fast as he was. Neal was agile and seemed to know exactly where he was going. Peter didn't doubt that Neal had memorized the floor plan during his imprisonment.

Peter felt a sting in his arm and heard the nearby ping of a bullet, but his step didn't falter. They had reached a metal door, and Neal flung it open. Peter followed him out and was surprised to feel wind whipping around him and the setting sun on his face. He turned to find Neal shoving a metal pipe in the door's handle, effectively jamming it shut just as their pursuers began to ram themselves against the door from the inside.

"That'll hold them for a few minutes," Neal said breathlessly, walking to the edge of the roof.

"Caffrey, why are we up here?"

Neal walked the perimeter of the roof, staring at the adjacent buildings. "Jax had people on the exits. So we'll have to leave without using an exit." He gave Peter an exhilarated grin. "This building's the closest. Let's go."

Peter's eyes widened. "We're going to jump?"

"Unless you have a helicopter to pick us up, yes," Neal replied, climbing up onto the ledge. "I'll go first."

Before Peter could protest, Neal had gone over the edge. Peter rushed over and gave a sigh of relief when he saw Neal safely land on the building next to them. To Peter, the gap between the buildings might as well have been a mile long. "I can't," Peter shouted to Neal.

"Just jump as far as you can. Trust me."

Peter's heart was in his throat, but the sound of Jax's men pounding at the door was a good incentive. With a deep breath, he climbed up onto the ledge as Neal had done and jumped before he could think about what he was about to do.

There was a sickening moment of flying through open air before he slammed into the side of the building. Oh God, he hadn't jumped far enough and- he felt a hand grab his arm. He heard Neal scream, but it didn't really register over the sound of the wind and his own heartbeat in his ears. Peter felt Neal grab his arm with his other hand quickly, before dragging him up.

Peter barely had time to land on the roof's asphalt before the door on the bar's roof flew open. "C'mon," Neal shouted, running toward a door. Bullets sprayed around them, but by some luck none hit.

The pair raced down the stairwell and out of the building, sprinting to where they had parked the car a block over. Neal had gotten into the passenger seat, so Peter was forced to drive.

The second Neal tossed him the keys, Peter jammed them into the ignition and peeled away from the sidewalk. Cars honked angrily, and it was a miracle Peter didn't slam into oncoming traffic. Neal let out a choked "Peter!" when he got too close to a truck.

As soon as they were what Peter deemed a safe distance away, he pulled over. Adrenaline was still lingering, but not enough to mask the ache from slamming into the side of the building. His arm was stinging, and Peter glanced at it to discover blood. Under closer examination, it seemed he was grazed by a bullet. The wound was shallow, though, and the blood had already stopped oozing.

"Holy shit," Peter said. "I can't believe we made it out of there. Caffrey, I don't understand how you haven't died of a heart attack during a heist yet." When he got no answer, Peter looked over to find Neal slightly hunched over in his seat, his arm held weirdly and eyes squeezed shut. "Neal, what happened? Were you hit?" Neal shook his head. Peter was relieved, but Neal was still about 5 shades paler than usual. "What is it? Your ribs?"

Neal snorted before wincing. "That jump certainly didn't help. But I may have... dislocated my shoulder when I grabbed you after you missed the jump."

"Shit," Peter hissed. "We have to go to the hospital."

Neal's eyes flew open. "No. It's just a dislocated shoulder. Do you know how to set it?"

"Neal, don't be stupid. I took a medical course at Quantico, but I'm not a doctor."

"Please. Before it swells more." Neal looked so sincere, his face lined with pain.

"Damn. You just had to go and save my life two times in two days, huh?" That got a small smile from Neal, and Peter sighed. "Fine."

Neal bit down on his knuckle as Peter grabbed his arm. Hoping he remembered how to do it right, Peter jolted the arm into place. Neal groaned loudly, but somehow managed to not cry out. He dropped his head against the seat and pounded the dashboard with his first. Peter glanced around the car before beginning to untie Neal's tie.

Neal quickly lifted his head. "What are you doing?"

Peter took the tie and began to make a loop, despite Neal's protest. "I'm making a sling."

"Peter, that tie is worth more than your car. I don't need a sling."

Peter ignored the jibe. "If we're not going to the hospital then you lose your vote." Peter hooked it around Neal's neck and placed his arm in it. Neal tried to take it off but gave up with a childish huff. Once he was satisfied, Peter pulled back onto the road and drove towards the safe house. Neal closed his eyes.

After 10 minutes, Peter asked, "What did you even take? It better have been worth it."

"A necklace."

Peter glanced over a Neal with wide eyes. "A necklace! Are you kidding?"

"Trust me, it'll be worth it."

Peter hoped he was right. He didn't think he could survive another Neal-style operation.

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tell me what you guys think! I'll try to update faster


	4. Chapter 4

Im so sorry this took so long. I have no excuse.

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"Stop fiddling with that."

Neal dropped his hand from Peter's homemade sling. "But I look like an idiot."

"Get over it." Peter handed Neal an ice pack. "Now, tell me about the necklace."

Neal sighed, pressing the ice pack to his shoulder. "Jax took it from the first person he killed. It's kind of like a good luck charm. He's a very sentimental psychopath."

"We almost got killed for one of Jax's keepsakes? Are you sure that's enough incentive to lure him out?"

"Peter, my job is to manipulate people. Allegedly. I know how he works. Trust me, I've spent enough time with him."

Peter sat down on the couch next to Neal. "Alright, but we still need to get a confession. We're close to catching him, but we don't have any hard evidence. Tomorrow's Monday, so we'll go to the office and set up a sting."

"The office as in the White Collar office? No way. Peter, that's like, the number one rule that criminals follow. You don't just walk into the FBI."

"We don't have much of a choice. You have to get a confession out of him, or Jax just walks."

Neal shook his head. "I can't give myself up that easily."

Peter got up and began to pace the length of the room. Outside, the sun was setting and the moon brought with it pouring rain. "Don't you want to see Jax go to jail, Caffrey? After all he did?"

Neal turned his head to face Peter, and Peter had a hard time keeping the surprise off of his face. Neal's eyes had a dead coldness that Peter could have never imagined him capable of. "Of course I want to see the bastard go to jail."

Neal sighed heavily and rubbed his face with his hands. The room was bathed in a tense silence, until Neal broke it a few moments later. "Fine. I guess losing my freedom would be worth taking Jax's away. I'll do it."

Peter smiled. "Good. Let's get this guy."

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Peter strolled into the bull pen, earning some curious glances. A t-shirt and slacks were not the his usual attire, but the junior agents had enough brains to not question it.

"Hey boss," Diana greeted as he walked by. "Good weekend?"

Peter tried to avoid making a sarcastic comment. She had no idea. "Yeah, some quiet time with me and baseball."

Diana scrunched up her nose. "Sounds horrible."

Peter frowned in mock offense. "I'm sorry, I don't associate with people who knock baseball." He walked towards his office, hearing Diana laugh behind him.

He climbed the stairs, letting the smile slip off of his face. Once he reached his office, Peter let out a deep breath. He knew he was paranoid, but it felt like everyone knew that he had broken about one hundred rules of his job over a two day span. Peter sat down and booted up his computer, trying his best to look busy. In reality, he just kept glancing between a few files and the clock without getting any real work done.

After an eternity, the clock clicked over to show 10 am. Peter's eyes shot to the elevator. The minutes ticked by slowly. "C'mon Caffrey," Peter muttered.

As if on cue, Peter's phone began to ring. He forced himself to wait a moment before pouncing on the receiver. "Agent Burke," he answered.

"This is Anderson from security downstairs. Neal Caffrey just walked into the lobby. We apprehended him, but he insists he talks to you."

"Alright, send him up." Peter hung up and left his office, walking down the stairs to awkwardly hover in the bull pen. A minute or two later, the elevator doors opened. Neal sauntered out, somehow looking suave even with his hands cuffed and a security guard on each arm.

"What the hell?" Peter heard Diana mutter from behind him. The guards marched Neal up to Peter. The con didn't even bother keeping the teasing grin off of his face.

"Where do you want him?" one of the guards asked.

"Take him to the interrogation room. I'll be close behind." Neal rolled his eyes as they went by, but Peter ignored him.

Every agent in the bull pen had halted when they spotted their new guest, each in various stages of disbelief. "Get back to work," Peter scolded, and they quickly went back to their duties. "Diana, you're with me."

She stood up and shook her head. "If you'd given me a hundred guesses I never would have thought it would end like this. The elusive Neal Caffrey that we've been hunting just walks in?"

Peter shrugged. "He must have a good reason. Let's go find out."

Peter led the way to the interrogation room, Diana close behind. When they arrived, Neal was already seated and handcuffed to the table. "You're up, boss."

Peter sighed, hoping Neal wouldn't act like too much of an idiot. He walked in and sat down across from the con. "Neal Caffrey," he said with flourish. "What brings you to the FBI?"

Neal made a show of glancing around the plain room. "Well, the lovely scenery is obviously a bonus. The cuffs are a turn off, but that's not a problem." He raised his arms and the cuffs clattered to the table.

Peter gave him a warning look that he ignored. "Cut the crap. You came here for a reason. Tell me a story, since I know you love the sound of your own voice."

Neal put a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Ouch. That stung. This is by far the most unprofessional interrogation I've ever had."

"Would you like to detail why you've been interrogated before?"

"Not particularly. I came here because you want Jax in jail and I want Jax in jail. I can get a confession out of him and you can get him out of my life."

"How sweet of you. You would do that just for us?" Peter said sarcastically.

"Anything for my friends at the FBI. And for a jail cell with a nice view."

Peter got up and began to walk towards the door. Before leaving, he turned and pointed to the cuffs. "Put those back on."

Neal rolled his eyes. "Fine. If it'll make you feel better."

Diana whistled when he came out. "Well, I did not expect that."

Peter shook his head. "Neither did I. I guess we'll have to plan an operation."

Diana's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? You actually trust him?"

"Trust isn't the word I would use. But we'll have agents on them at all times. Getting Caffrey _and_ Jax? It'll be like Christmas."

Diana smirked. "Okay, so you're definitely crazy. But hey, sounds like a plan."

oOoOoOoO

Peter's team sat around the conference table, Peter standing at the end with a large photo of Jax posted behind him. It would have been like any other Monday, if you excluded the con man sitting with them, three guards surrounding him. Peter tried to push the weirdness of Neal sitting in on a briefing to the back of his mind.

"Okay guys. We've been hunting David Jax for a few weeks, but we haven't gotten anything to stick. Now we have the opportunity to get a confession thanks to Neal's less than legal skills."

"Hey, you can't get arrested for talking."

"But you can get arrested for robbery, forgery, insurance fraud-"

"Please, I would never do something as boring as insurance fraud."

"Moving on; Neal will set up a meet and get a confession. As soon as he does, our units will move in and grab them. This is a simple one. We'll go over details once we set up a time and location. You are dismissed."

The agents got up and began to file out of the room, Neal trying to slip out among them. "Caffrey, get back here."

Neal turned back with a smile. "I was just getting some coffee."

Peter rolled his eyes. He turned to the guards. "You can wait outside the door." They nodded, and eventually it was just Peter and Neal in the room. "You're sure Jax will call you?" Peter asked.

"Yeah, any time now."

"Okay, we're going to set it up for tomorrow at 2 pm. The ideal location would be the docks."

"Geez, don't I get a say?"

"No."

"Do I need to save your life once a day for you to listen to me?" Peter gave Neal a dark look, and the con man raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, the docks it is. I'll tell Jax that as soon as he calls."

Peter smirked. "We did it your way. Now it's time for an FBI-style operation. It'll involve a lot less roof jumping."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Not getting shot, I think that's a plus."

"You have a point."

"Of course I do. Anyway, I have to go talk to Hughes. And Neal? Stop picking your cuffs."

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next chapter we get to see the sting! Please leave your opinions, the next chapter will be exciting(:


	5. Chapter 5

I know, I'm shocked I'm updating this fast too(;

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Peter slapped Neal's hand away. "Don't touch the equipment."

"I have to do something to distract me from the horrid smell."

"Oh please, the van doesn't smell."

"Boys, stop bickering," Diana scolded. "Neal, I need to test the levels on your wire."

"Agent Burke wants me to suffocate in the back of this cramped van."

Diana smirked. "Okay, levels are good."

Peter rolled his eyes. "You are such a child. Back to the mission, we have units on all of the exits."

"Even the secret one through the basement?"

"Caffrey, the FBI does know how to do its job."

Neal raised his hands in surrender. "Hey, just checking. Since you apparently can't get a decent stakeout vehicle."

"Are you personally offended or something?" Peter asked incredulously. "Just forget about the van. I managed to get you immunity for this op, so you won't be held accountable for whatever you say to get a confession." At the sight of Neal's grin, Peter sighed. "Don't screw around with it. Get the confession as fast as you can so we can move in. Jax isn't exactly the most predictable psychopath."

Neal's face lost its humor. "You can say that again. I know what I'm walking into."

That did little to placate Peter's worries, but he tried to relax anyway. They were prepared. It was impossible for Jax to escape. There were always outcomes that couldn't be anticipated, but Neal had worked with worse.

"Jax is here with two of his men," Diana reported, looking through the binoculars.

"May I?" Neal asked, and Diana passed him the pair. Peter noticed the way the con's jaw tensed at the sight of Jax, an almost imperceptible hint of fear on his face. "Alright," he said. "That's my cue." He walked to the back of the van and pulled open the door.

Peter grabbed his arm before he could leave. "Hey, it's going to work out. Trust me," he muttered, quiet enough that Diana couldn't hear.

Neal flashed him a wide grin. "Do you think I would've agreed to this if I didn't?" With that, he jumped out of the van, straightened his tie, and began to stroll towards the building.

Peter shook his head and sat down at his post. Speaking into the radio, he said, "Caffrey is approaching the suspect. All units be prepared to go in at my command." Neal entered the warehouse and reached Jax, their conversation broadcasted into the van's confines.

"Neal Caffrey," Jax drawled. "Never thought I'd see you again. Give me the necklace."

"Jax, polite as usual. Don't worry, you'll get your trophy."

Jax huffed out a sharp, chilling laugh. He was an intimidating man, towering over Neal at his 6 and a half foot stature. The two guards that had entered with him were very obviously armed. Peter stared at the warehouse's exterior, frustrated that he couldn't see what was happening inside. They knew Neal was outmanned and unarmed in there.

"What's your angle, Caffrey? I always thought you were at least somewhat smart."

"Well, I did break into your headquarters just 12 hours after breaking out of said headquarters. If _I'm_ not smart, what does that say about you?"

Jax advanced towards Neal, his harsh steps picked up by the mic. "I'm not playing around with you."

Peter cursed under his breath. "Stop provoking him, Neal," he muttered to himself.

"How many people have you killed, Jax? That security guard, from our first heist. He had a two year old daughter, did you know that?"

"You came here to berate my morals? What, am I supposed to feel guilty? Who gives a shit how many daughters he had! If they had walked in on the heist, I would've shot them too. Better yet, I would've forced you to shoot them."

Neal's harsh breaths sped up over the mic, but when he spoke, he maintained the same calm tone. "So you robbed the Met, and killed the guard in your way..." He trailed off.

Jax let out another laugh that came out as slightly crazed. It was the worst sound that Peter had ever been forced to listen to, especially since he knew Neal was only a few feet from the man. "Grow some balls, Caffrey! Jesus, this is what I've been telling you for a month. I killed that guard and I've killed a lot more people. Does that keep you up at night? Does that just tear your little heart apart?"

Neal surprised Peter by letting out a laugh of his own. "Jax, go to hell."

Peter picked up the radio. "We got it. All units go."

There was the sound of fabric rubbing against the mic, accompanied by the telltale click of a gun cocking. "I have news for you Caffrey. You're going to hell right along with us. Now, let's go make some more forgeries."

"Stop!" Peter yelled over the radio. "Units stand down. Caffrey is a potential hostage. If we storm in, he's dead. Keep by your exits; we'll ambush from behind when they leave."

Jax's laugh crackled over the radio, and Peter shivered involuntarily. Neal's breath wheezed. "What's the matter? Oh, probably my arm over your throat. Don't look so panicked; you're still useful to us." Suddenly, Neal began coughing harshly, gasping in air. "See? I'm just having a little fun."

Peter's hands were balled into tight fists. He was going to kill the bastard when they got him. There was the sound of feet dragging. "Units, stand ready. Suspects are on the move," he ordered, using all of his willpower to maintain his professional tone.

The wire's transmission went dead. Peter jumped up, staring at the now silent radio, their last connection with Neal. His first instinct was to run into the warehouse, but that would end in a gunfight with Neal as the most likely collateral damage. Instead, he picked up his radio. "Transmission lost. Continue to follow previous instruction. They have to pass one of our units to leave."

After a few tense minutes of Peter barely refraining from pulling his hair out, he snatched his radio back up. "Unit one, do you copy?"

"Copy."

"Unit two?"

"Copy."

"Unit three?"

"Copy."

"Unit four?"

Static.

"Unit four?"

He glanced at Diana, having previously forgotten she was still there. "That was the back alley exit, from the basement." They stared at each other for a moment before bursting into action.

Guns drawn, Peter flung open the van doors and raced towards the alley, Diana close at his heels. His mind flashed back to running for his life with Neal the previous day, and he pushed his legs faster. They rounded the corner into the alley just in time to see a black SUV peel away. Diana quickly pulled out her phone and called in the partial license plate, which was lucky because Peter only saw red.

He had just promised Neal that it would all be fine. Neal had been against working with the FBI but had trusted Peter, and it had all gone to shit in about 5 minutes. He had _trusted_ him, and look where that got him. Back into the hands of the same maniac he had just escaped from; escaped from to save Peter. Peter found himself speaking into his radio. "Suspects have left with the captive. All units report to the alley."

He fought the urge to yell in frustration, hearing the running footsteps of his team. They arrived and lined up in front of him, most looking anywhere other than his scathing glare. "Where the hell is Unit four?" he demanded in a surprisingly calm tone.

An agent stepped up. He had recently been transferred from Chicago, and Peter kept forgetting his name. "They were called away, sir."

"The rest of you are dismissed." The other agents quickly scattered, glad to be sent back to the office and away from their boss's wrath. "What do you mean, they were called away?"

"Three minutes ago we got a call. They needed an additional tactical unit to assist in a hostage situation."

"How many units did the hostage situation have?" Peter demanded in an emotionless voice.

"Four, sir. They wanted an additional to run a wider perimeter. You can never be too careful."

Peter took a few slow steps closer to the agent. "Four units were plenty for them to handle it. Why did you not clear it with me?"

"It was a split second decision, sir. And while five units is excessive, I value the lives of civilians over the life of a criminal."

Peter punched him square in the face. "I don't know how it worked in Chicago, but in New York, you clear 'split second decisions' with your superior. And if Caffrey isn't found alive, I'll make sure that the highest government position you can get is scrubbing toilets in city hall."

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please leave your feedback! I love reading it(:


	6. Chapter 6

I'm sorry I'm such a horrible person making you guys wait this long!

oOoOoOo

Peter's urge to slam his head against the wall was put on hold by the investigation. However, all of their leads quickly went cold. The Penrose was deserted, the getaway van was found ditched a few blocks from the docks, and local police hadn't seen Jax. Peter sent out all of the due warnings to the airports, making sure Jax couldn't leave the country.

In between following stale leads, Peter was berated by multiple superiors. They all said a variation of the same rant, mostly incredulous that Neal Caffrey had voluntarily waltzed into the FBI building and wasn't in jail. The agent from Chicago was lucky that Peter hadn't seen him since the sting, because he was sure he would do a lot more than just punch him at this point.

Somehow, Peter found a few spare minutes to call Elizabeth. He gave her a brief outline of the past days events, leaving out enough that she wouldn't worry. He did ask her to extend her stay at her sister's, just in case. It would be an idiot move to attempt to hurt him again, but Jax was an obvious psychopath, and Peter wasn't about to put Elizabeth in danger.

Days passed by agonizingly slow. Every file dropped on his desk would raise his hopes that they had a lead. Even as he was forced to work on other cases, the back of his mind was always on Caffrey. He heard Neal's emotionless words replaying in his head as he recounted his month of imprisonment. The threat Jax had made at Neal's first escape attempt left Peter desperately looking over the case again, stomach churning, hoping that they had missed something. The urge to slam his head against the wall didn't dissipate.

OoOoOoOo

After a week of grinding days, a file reached his desk that didn't immediately crush his hope. A flawless Monet forgery. Peter felt a small smile spread across his face. It screamed Neal.

Peter let himself bask in the relief that Neal was alive, before rushing up to evidence inspection and lock up on the twelvth floor. He walked up to the desk, failing to look casual. "I need that Monet forgery looked over again," he bit out quickly, the receptionist looking up in wary surprise.

"It was appraised already," he replied with shaky confidence.

Peter fought down his frustration. "I want that painting to be scoured inch by inch, until something is found. You got that?"

The receptionist nodded, picking up the phone to make the appropriate calls. Hours later, Peter's phone rang. He picked up on the first ring, not caring about appearing desperate. "Agent Burke, we found something in the forgery's frame."

He didn't wait to hear the rest. Slamming down the receiver, Peter walked to the elevator as fast as he could while still being deemed socially acceptable. However, he probably failed on that front based on the weird looks he was getting, but he had reached the elevator and was pushing the twelve button, so he didn't have time to care.

His fingers tapped against his leg with impatience. He didn't remember how slow this elevator was. Or maybe it was how tall the building was. Whatever.

The doors slid open, and Peter quickly made his way to the inspection room. He opened the door to find two agents who's names he didn't know and didn't care to know at the moment. "What did you find?"

One of the women gestured to a microscope, under it a piece of wood framing. "There's a message etched into it, so fine that we hadn't found it in a cursory inspection.."

Peter was already striding over to the microscope, a small smile tugging on his lips. He had hope that Neal would come up with something clever. Give them an address, a clue, a name, something to go on. He glanced into the microscope and his smile died quickly.

"Dammit Neal," he growled under his breath.

The two words etched into the wood were so unhelpful, so mysterious, so goddamn infuriating and undeniably Neal that Peter remembered what it was like to want to strangle the kid, overshadowing his worry for the moment.

'Don't come.'

oOoOoOo

Peter threw the box into the back of his car and slammed the door shut. He peeled out of the parking lot, a copy of every file the FBI had on David Jax sitting on his back seat. He tried not to let his annoyance further his already erratic driving style, but it was not an easy feat.

'Don't come.' What the hell was that supposed to mean? Neal was kidnapped by a psychopath and given an opportunity to send Peter a message and he still had to be his elusive, puzzling, dramatic self. Only Neal could manage to give him more questions than answers. Peter wanted to find him even quicker just to spite the con man and yell at him personally for being such a difficult person.

A sneaking voice in the back of his head told him he was just glad to focus on any other emotion than overwhelming worry, but he tried his best to silence it. He would rather rant about how insufferable Neal was than think about the dark connotations 'Don't come' brought.

Peter was so lost in his own thoughts he hadn't even realized he had driven to the safe house until he turned off the car. The sun was setting, the trees casting nefarious shadows on the house. Peter shook off his dark thoughts and grabbed his files. The door was still unlocked, thankfully since Peter didn't have Neal there to pick the lock.

He sat down on the couch with a sigh, scrubbing his hands down his face. He got to work. The FBI's meager files on Jax only took half an hour to go through, so Peter simply kept rereading them. Every time he wanted to throw the box across the room, he reminded himself of Neal sitting in the same spot he was, being convinced to go to the FBI by no other than the apparent liar Peter Burke.

Eventually though, Peter found himself chucking the box against the wall. You can only go over the same files so many times without wanting to stab your eyes out. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a weary sigh. He walked over to the mess and picked up a paper, ready to gather up the files. He was about to grab another, but he glanced at the paper and hesitated.

For some reason, he had a feeling about a set of warehouses Jax used to rent; for what, Peter was never able to get a warrant to figure out. Of course, they had already checked out the warehouses, which were now being rented by a small time newspaper print. The feeling just would not quit though, and Peter had learned to trust his gut.

He pulled out his laptop that he had brought with him and looked up the warehouse's blueprints. It was the same as the copy they had at the office. Still, he scoured the database for another half hour until something caught his eye. Another set of blueprints, but outdated. On these, it had a basement.

Peter's face lit up. "Gotcha."

oOoOoOoOo

There was no moon in the sky. The team Peter put together had to rely on flashlights, and the raid team had night vision goggles fixed on their faces. Peter could have waited until morning to act on his discovery, but that was also akin to torture. Also, he didn't trust how long Jax would stay in one place. He was unpredictable, and Hughes had agreed to act immediately, even if that meant getting a team together at midnight. They could use the element of surprise and the cloak of night to their advantage.

Peter sat in the van, Diana once again by his side. "All teams go," he ordered over the radio. The sound of the hidden hatches being pried open filled the van.

A few tense minutes went by. "Hostiles apprehended," an agent reported over the radio.

Peter was out of the van in an instant. He ran to the warehouse and quickly climbed down the ladder into the basement. He flicked on his flashlight, walking by the other agents and not even acknowledging Jax, who was handcuffed and being dragged to the exit. Instead, he quickly checked the back rooms.

The third room he checked, he shined his flashlight directly in Neal's face. Neal held up a hand to shield his eyes, chains clinking at the movement. Peter was so washed with relief that he almost didn't notice the fear on the younger man's face. Almost. "Neal, it's alright, it's Peter. Jax is in custody." The look still did not leave.

Neal shook his head. "You're horrible at following directions."

And he promptly passed out.

oOoOoOoOo

Why is Neal mad that Peter showed up? You'll find out in the next update that will be out a lot faster I swear! Neal had to be found so soon because this story is no fun to write without him hahaha. I promise good things to come(: thanks for the reviews! Tell me what ya think(:


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for the feedback on the last chapter! It means a lot(: this is the first chapter from Neal's pov

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Neal heard the door scrape open, his breath hitching involuntarily. His head was lolled against his chest, giving him a moment to school his features into an unreadable mask. Slow, measured footsteps echoed through the room as they made their way to the chair he was strapped to.

His head was violently pulled back by his hair. Somehow, Neal managed not to flinch as his head throbbed with a new ferocity. Instead, he glared daggers at Jax's smug face.

Jax gave a low whistle. "Still got that fight in you? How unfortunate."

"Still balding? How unfortunate."

Jax punched him in the face, the force sending his chair off balance and toppling to the floor. Neal felt his head bounce on the concrete, causing his vision to blacken for a moment before returning. Jax swiftly kicked him in the ribs. Neal bit back a groan, wanting to curl in on himself but hindered by his restraints.

Eventually, Jax hauled the chair back up, the room spinning sickeningly at the change. "Are you ready to behave now?"

Neal narrowed his eyes. "You really are stupid, huh?"

Jax clenched his fists, but he smiled smugly. "Fine. Be that way. But you're meeting the boss today, and I don't think he'll take too kindly to that smart mouth of yours."

Neal shrugged as well as he could while being shackled to a chair. "I'm sure you've heard of a con man before. My 'smart mouth' is pretty useful."

Jax let out a chilling laugh. "Not this time."

Suddenly, the room was filled with a frantic beeping. Jax's sneering face faded, along with the rest of the dank room. Neal was in a sea of darkness; the only sensation he was aware of was a tight grip on his wrist. The con man tried to shake it off, but his limbs weren't listening properly.

Panic filled his mind. Jax must have drugged him. The beeping sped up and added to the air of confusion. Neal managed to tear his eyes open, but he was blinded by the sudden brightness. He squeezed his eyes shut again against the onslaught of light and tried to pull his wrist back. This time Jax released his grip, and Neal immediately backed up to the opposite side of the bed.

"Neal, calm down!" a voice broke in over the blood pounding in his ears.

Neal squeezed his eyes shut tighter and took stock of his situation. He tried to think through the panic and realized things weren't adding up. The bed, the frantic beeping, the familiar voice, the antiseptic smell... shit, he was in a hospital.

The buzzing in his ears quieted and the beeping slowed. Neal kept his eyes closed while he composed himself. He kicked himself for freaking out in front of Peter and slowly opened his eyes with new resolve. He let a relaxed smile spread across his face. "Oh, hey Peter. What's up?"

Peter's worried look turned incredulous. "Oh, y'know, we brought you here dehydrated with a grade 3 concussion and broken ribs. What's up with you?"

"Living the high life, you know me. Trying to be a upstanding and law-abiding citizen-"

"Caffrey," Peter cut him off. "Be serious." He opened his mouth and hesitated. Neal guessed he was going to go with the classic 'how are you feeling?' and was glad that Peter ditched the idea, because it wouldn't have been taken kindly. Instead, he said, "Do you remember sending us that stupid message in your forgery?"

Neal made a show of scrunching his face up into a confused expression. "I do remember sending a message with very clear instructions. But a stupid one? I don't recall."

Peter's eyes smoldered. "You were kidnapped and had a chance to send us a message, and all you said was don't come! In my book, that counts as stupid."

"Peter, I didn't know you wrote your own book!" Peter's face hardened at Neal's cheesy attempt to break the tension. Neal sighed. "Peter, you've chased me long enough to know that I'm at least moderately smart. Now, don't you think I had a reason?"

Peter's expression didn't lighten. "No address, no clue, just another mysterious-"

"What, do you think I just liked Jax's company? I didn't send that message because I wanted my very own sadistic murderer best friend!" Neal bit out sarcastically, his carefree façade fading. Peter was ranting like an angry wife, which had the potential to be hilarious, but Neal wasn't in the mood to mess with him all night.

Peter's fight visibly drained at Neal's change in demeanor, leaving him looking worried and weary. "Okay, Neal. Why then?"

Neal sighed. "I saved your life twice and you can't even follow my one request."

"C'mon, Caffrey. You know I couldn't do that. Why didn't you want us to come?"

"I knew that something about Jax didn't add up. He just wasn't smart enough to avoid the FBI for this long. His boss, however, is."

Peter furrowed his brow. "His boss? I thought he was the boss."

Neal shook his head. "So did I. But then he introduced me to him like a kid at show and tell." How an brute like Jax managed to kidnap him right under the FBI's nose was a conversation he was going to have to take up with Peter. That was a story he definitely wanted to hear.

"Who is it?"

"Peter, I didn't want you or any of the FBI in this for a reason. Any good agent who isn't corrupted will ruin their career, and the ones that are corrupted will tip him off."

"Neal," Peter demanded. "It's my decision if I want to take this guy down, and I accept the risk. Now, who is it?"

Neal hesitated, but gave up under Peter's imploring stare. The guy did get him away from Jax, after all.

"The mayor of New York City."

oOoOoOo

sorry this was shorter than usual! I'll make the next chapter extra long to make up for it(; hope you enjoyed


	8. Chapter 8

Hey guys! I know I said this chapter would be long, but muse left me for a little bit on this one.

Enjoy!

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Neal didn't trust easily. It was impossible to, really, considering how often he manipulated people who were too naive. It was amazing what some people would do for a trustworthy smile. When you know how quickly you can be tricked, you tend to be more cautious.

While Peter assumed Neal was impulsive, it was quite the opposite. He wouldn't have evaded capture for so long if he wasn't meticulous. Neal did his research on Peter as soon as he found out which agent was the lead on his case. He knew that the agent was a good man, and wouldn't have gone to Peter's house to warn him otherwise.

The same didn't go for the rest of his office, however. Neal didn't have an ounce of trust in any of them. He had no idea which ones could be under the mayor's thumb, and that unsettled him. It took about half an hour of arguing for Neal to concede that they could bring in Hughes. He wasn't happy about it, but Peter insisted that Neal wouldn't be allowed out of jail to help with the case if Hughes wasn't on their side.

So that's how he ended up in the office's bull pen, handcuffed to an uncomfortable chair and stared at by half of the agents. He kept his face expressionless, though sometimes he couldn't help but wink at a junior agent who was gawking at him, causing them to quickly look away.

He glanced at the office where Hughes and Peter were caught up in an apparently intense discussion. He tried to avoid doing so, since it only made him more nervous. Neal refrained from tapping his fingers anxiously, and turned his attention to picking his handcuffs without anyone noticing.

They clicked open, and Neal looked around casually. No one was watching him, so he got up smoothly and grabbed a coffee from the unoccupied desk next to him. He sat back down and cuffed himself back to the chair, feeling the usual rush of accomplishment when getting away with something. Any happiness he had quickly drained, however, when he saw Peter leave Hughes' office and begin walking towards him.

Peter rolled his eyes and snatched the coffee from Neal's hand when he reached him. Neal gave him the obligatory smirk. "Hughes is on board," Peter announced. He unlocked the cuffs, and Neal bounced up.

"Those handcuffs are really getting old," Neal complained rubbing his wrist as he followed Peter to the conference room.

"Bet you didn't think about that while you were stealing a Monet."

"Peter, if I was ever allegedly holding a real Monet in my hands, you seriously think I would be thinking about that?"

Peter shrugged. "Fair enough. Diana, come with us." He paused for a moment, thinking, before saying, "Jones, you too."

Neal narrowed his eyes. "I thought it was only going to be us. This is a high risk case, if you hadn't noticed."

"The last time it was only me and you as a team, we got shot at and had to jump across buildings."

"The last time it was your team, I was kidnapped by Jax. Again."

"These are my two most trusted agents. It's different this time."

Neal raised his eyebrows, still not sold but also not willing to argue in front of the whole office. "If you say so."

The two made their way to the conference room, Diana and Jones entering a moment later. "Boss, what's going on? Why isn't Caffrey in jail?" Diana asked as soon as the door was closed.

"Hello to you too, Agent Berrigan," Neal said with a smile.

Peter gave Neal a stern look, before turning to Diana and Jones. "Jax wasn't the head of the snake. The real leader is Mayor Henderson."

"How do we know that?" Jones asked in shock.

"Jax introduced him to Neal while he was imprisoned," Peter explained.

Diana looked suspicious. "He's a con man."

"Sitting right here," Neal piped in, but was ignored.

"How do we know he's not lying to stall going to jail?" she pressed on.

All joking left Neal's face, leaving a sincere expression. "Listen, I know I haven't done anything to gain anyone's trust, but I wouldn't lie about this. Plus, there are easier ways to get out of jail than going after the city's beloved mayor." Diana scrutinized Neal's face for a moment, until deeming his answer satisfactory for the time being.

"So," Jones moved on, breaking the tension. "Why would the mayor turn to robbery?"

Before Peter could answer, Neal chimed in. "Well, it would've been relatively easy. The most important things are power and influence when it comes to the criminal world, not just money. The mayor has both. He could be ordering these robberies to fuel the superiority complex that most government officials have, and when I say government officials I _of course_ don't include you guys. He might just want to prove that he's smarter."

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Like you?"

"I don't need to prove anything," Neal said, smiling innocently. Jones smothered a laugh, earning a glare from Peter.

"How are we going to get this guy?" Diana asked. "We can't exactly go around asking for search warrants. Caffrey's testimony wouldn't stand, and we don't know which judges the mayor paid off."

"It looks like our only option is to get a confession. That will give us the evidence we need to get full access to his affairs and put him away."

Neal's face split into a wide grin. "Well, I guess I'll go in if I _have_ to."

"Oh no, Neal. The mayor already knows who you are. I'm going to go in on this sting."

"But I'm the best con!"

"First of all; this is a sting, not a con."

Neal put his hands up in mock surrender. "Hey, whatever you call it to make yourselves feel better."

"Second of all," Peter went on, "even Neal Caffrey can't convince the mayor that he didn't meet you chained up by Jax."

Neal winced at that. "You have a point, I guess. But I'm not sitting in the van."

"Yes you are. And Diana will keep you company." Diana sent him a scary grin.

Neal slumped in his seat, careful to not wrinkle his suit. "This is going to be the most boring con ever."

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i promise next chapter will be ACTION PACKED (: I appreciate all of the reviews! They keep me going! All opinions welcome(:


	9. Chapter 9

Hey! This is sadly the last chapter for this story. Thanks for sticking through it with me(:

enjoy!

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Neal really had to commend the FBI's ability to take anything that had an ounce of fun and ruin it. How they managed to take something as exciting as going undercover and turn it into hours of sitting in a stuffy van was beyond him. It was better than prison, but not by much.

Neal's chair might as well have been made from plywood, the way it was making his broken ribs and bruises ache. He didn't even have anyone to annoy, because he was pretty sure Diana would tape his mouth shut if he tried, and Peter was currently working inside the mayor's building as an intern. Listening to the audio of his mundane tasks was mind numbing, and Neal was surprised that Diana could listen to it without slamming her head into the wall just because it was something to do.

Neal tried his best to occupy himself so he wouldn't lose any more brain cells, slipping small pieces of equipment into his pockets when Diana wasn't looking. He managed to grab a pen that doubled as a recording device and a watch that also sent out discreet GPS signals before Diana told him to stop fidgeting. Neal didn't really care for the items, but he planned to give them to Mozzie as a peace offering for bringing a fed to one of his safe houses. He had no idea where the little guy was, but he was sure Moz would love to find out how the FBI gadgets worked and would want to see if he could use it against The Man.

Neal's brain kept bringing up memories of Jax in the van's silence, so he grabbed the building's blueprints to distract himself. He looked at the floor plan, memorizing the vent system and mapping escape routes in his head, more of a habit than anything else.

After what felt like an eternity, Neal's head snapped up from where he was drawing on a napkin. The background noises of an office had stopped coming from their radio, leaving only Peter and another man's voices. Diana was leaned in close, her brow furrowed.

"Get your hands off of me," Peter growled over the transmission.

"I can't do that, Agent Burke." At that point Diana quickly grabbed her own radio, calling in for backup. The sound of a heavy door being swung open filled the van, followed by an angry shout of "Hey!" from Peter, before their communication was cut.

"Shit," Diana cursed under her breath.

"How far out is backup?" Neal asked, fingers drumming against his leg restlessly.

"At least fifteen minutes," Diana hissed. "We didn't anticipate the mayor being tipped off that fast. This was supposed to be a no risk operation today."

Neal could feel the tension rolling off of her in waves, and though the last thing he wanted to do was evoke her rage, he had to state the obvious. "Peter might not have fifteen minutes. The mayor doesn't like loose ends."

Diana clenched her fist. "I know that, Caffrey, but-" She was cut off as Neal sprung up and flung the van doors open, jumping out deftly. "Hey! What the hell-"

Neal didn't hear the rest of what she was saying, slamming the doors back shut before she could finish her sentence. He ran into a nearby alley before slowing his pace, not sure if Diana would follow him or not. He approached the building casually, going over his plan in his head. Or really, lack of a plan. More of a vague outline.

He walked into the office where Peter had been working, getting by the receptionist with a fast pace, dazzling smile, and quick wave; the image of a hurried business man. Once he entered the office, Neal walked through the sea of desks to the back of the room, towards the hallway. He deflected the questioning looks with terse waves and muttered excuses of, "Darn, late to another meeting with Bill."

When he entered the hallway and was away from prying eyes, Neal quickened his pace. He knew that his flimsy alibi wouldn't hold off security for long, and their presence would make his job a lot more annoying.

He scanned the hallway, looking for a likely room Peter would have been thrown into. He quickly came across a large metal door and wasted no time pulling out his lock picks and setting to work. It took only a minute, and he swung open the door to see a very surprised Peter sitting on the floor, hands and feet bound. "Wow, I'm going to be a lot less worried about being caught by the FBI if this is how you investigate."

Peter ignored the remark, instead asking, "Neal, what are you doing here?"

Neal glanced into the hallway, looking left and right before shutting the door once more. "Saving your life for the third time in a row, what does it look like?" Neal bent down and quickly untied Peter, his deft fingers unknotting the ropes quickly, betraying his experience in such situations. As soon as he was done, Neal pulled Peter up. "Give me a boost to the vent up there."

Peter sighed, but laced his hands together as a platform for Neal. "Should I even bother asking why we're using the vents?"

Neal popped the grate open, smirking. "No guards in the vents." He grabbed onto the edge and pulled himself into the small space. He glanced back down, reaching his good arm for Peter. The agent rolled his eyes, but grabbed the offered hand. Neal groaned at the weight, but managed to pull Peter up with him. Just in time, too, for at that moment the room's door flung open. Shots were fired at the ceiling, but thankfully they ricocheted off of the metal vent.

They crawled away quickly, Neal ahead since he knew the way. After a minute or two, Neal glanced through a grate that led to the room he was looking for. It was empty. Neal gave the grate a sharp kick, sending it flying off. He jumped down, landing on the floor below with grace. Peter followed, landing with far less poise and looking irritated at that. Neal walked over to the room's door and shoved at nearby chair under the knob.

"Neal, why are we in this room?"

"We need a distraction. The security is probably sweeping the building right now, which means they'll flush us out eventually." Neal turned to the large computer that was the room's central focus.

"Why don't we just wait in the vents for back up?"

"Back up won't be here for an hour." Neal winced as soon as he the horrible lie left his mouth. To his defense, he was also in the middle of hacking into the computer, so he was a little preoccupied.

"An hour? Really? How stupid do you think I am?"

Neal clenched his jaw, stressed that the computer was harder to crack than anticipated and vaguely regretting untying Peter. "This is our only opportunity to get the mayor. If we lose him now, he'll go underground. We can't just hide out and wait for back up to save us."

Peter sighed as if he was talking to a toddler who wouldn't eat his vegetables. "I want to get him too, but it's not worth getting killed over. He can't hide forever, and when he slips up, we'll get him."

Neal hung his head against his chest, fingers stilling over the keyboard. "Fine. You're right." He dragged a hand through his hair before pointing to another door in the room. "That exit leads outside."

Peter smothered his triumphant smile as he walked over to the door and yanked it open. He frowned. "Neal, this is a closet."

Before he could turn around, he was shoved into the closet, the door slamming behind him. He immediately surged forward and jiggled the handle, only to realize he was locked in. "Caffrey!" he growled, trying to keep his voice low, aware they were still being pursued.

"Sorry Peter," Neal muttered. "We can't let the mayor go." Neal went back to the computer, only taking one more moment to crack it. As he worked, he could hear Peter lecturing him.

"We're not letting him go! But we're also not going on a suicide mission!"

"Have a little faith," Neal muttered. He finally located the system's gas line break alarm, setting it off. Immediately, alarms began blaring. "I'll be back soon," he told Peter.

"Neal, listen to me! Come back here-"

Neal winced as he shut the door. It was really the only way in Neal's mind. Peter was as stubborn as him, and that was saying something.

He quickly made his way to the mayor's office, pushing through the crowds of people going the opposite direction, towards the exit. He reached the large wooden doors and pulled them open with flourish. Sure enough, as he had expected, the mayor was quickly emptying a hidden safe of money and no doubt illegal documents.

As soon as he entered, one of the two guards who had apparently stayed with the mayor tackled him to the floor. Neal looked up at the mayor's wary face. With as much suave ever achieved by someone pinned to the floor, he said, "Hello, Henderson. Have a moment to chat?"

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Peter was officially going to kill that kid. He swore he had twenty new gray hairs from the past two weeks. He had given up trying to get the door open, instead listening closely to what was happening outside. All he could hear was the blaring of some alarm.

Based on the time that had passed, back up should be there at any moment. Peter would never live it down if his team found him locked in a closet by Caffrey, the thought causing his annoyance to double. It was easier to focus on anger than to dwell on the worry that Neal had most certainly just gone to take on the mayor and his men. You would think that the past two months would have taught him that he wasn't invincible, but that was Caffrey for you. Infuriatingly contradictory.

The door suddenly opened. Peter was ready to attack whoever it was, but then he realized it was Neal, and then he was _really_ ready to attack him. "What the hell!" Peter exclaimed angrily. "You could've gotten yourself killed, and I'm not even going to broach the fact that you _locked me in a closet_."

"Not my best work, I admit. But, here," he said, handing Peter a pen. "Full confession."

Peter narrowed his eyes. "You're kidding."

Neal shook his head. "It's all there."

He wasn't smiling, but his eyes were sparkling mischievously. Peter's face slowly broke into a small grin as he stared at the pen, pushing away his anger at the moment for amazement. "How?"

Neal smirked. "I can't give away all of my secrets, can I?"

At that response, Peter expected his anger to return full force, but instead found himself laughing slightly. Neal looked at him like he was crazy for a second, before laughing too.

The sound of pounding footsteps could be heard over the alarm, and a moment later a group of agents ran in. "Are either of you injured?" one asked.

"No," Peter confirmed. The other agents left the room, and Peter began to walk out of the building, filling in Jones on the situation as he went, Neal following behind.

Peter stepped outside into a flurry of activity. He quickly handed off the pen, ordering an agent to take it to a judge and get a warrant so they could search the place for more evidence. Various police cars lined the street with backseats full of the mayor's arrested men, one containing the mayor himself. Peter smiled, looking forward to the man's trial. He walked down the row of police cars, looking for Neal in one of the car's confines. Finding nothing, he asked Diana which agent's custody Neal was in. She gave in a weird look. "He was in yours, boss."

Peter scanned the scene for the con, eyes hard before he broke into a grin.

"Game on, Caffrey."

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thanks again for reading, love ya :D


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